Chapter 75

Congxia was truly crying.

Literally.

She sat on the ground, on the verge of throwing a tantrum: “Spit it out, spit it out!”

No one could blame her for being so agitated.

Though winter was approaching—typically the season for snake demons to hibernate—a great demon was no ordinary creature.

The mating season for an adult demon usually arrived three months after their true form stabilized.

A significant reason for Congxia’s breakdown was that she had been eagerly anticipating this day for months.

She was convinced that the prideful immortals wouldn’t know about this.

When the time came, she could simply strip and stand before the Mountain Lord, and he would have no choice but to relent.

But now, with the Oath Fruit in play, her plans had undoubtedly fallen apart.

Unless Yan Chaosheng had a death wish, he would never touch her.

What Congxia didn’t know, however, was that Liu Shuang hadn’t eaten just one Oath Fruit—she had eaten countless of them.

For Liu Shuang, this was a good thing.

Having consumed so many Oath Fruits, if she left the demon palace now, she wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.

Once Yan Chaosheng’s mating season arrived, he would either die or be severely injured.

If things continued this way, Yan Chaosheng wouldn’t be able to withstand the demon clan’s assault.

She wouldn’t even need to lift a hand to avenge Canglan and Bai Zhuixu.

In a flash, Liu Shuang thought of something crucial.

*”If he dies…” she murmured.

“Will he really die? No… that’s not right.”

She recalled the scales on his body that day.

Yan Chaosheng’s bloodline was unclear—a ghost cultivator!

In her past life, Yan Chaosheng had been a ghost cultivator, entering the ghostly path through his demon form.

It couldn’t be that simple.

If she did nothing, Yan Chaosheng might not die.

Instead, he might walk the exact same path as his previous life, becoming a demon-ghost hybrid.

And then, would the immortals still be able to defeat him?

Was this all a ploy to deceive her into giving up her Huiling Heart? Or did he already know he could take the ghost cultivation path?

The Yan Chaosheng she knew was cunning and unpredictable—she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

Liu Shuang suppressed her thoughts.

The butterfly demon might be useless in a fight, but she was first-rate at throwing tantrums.

Liu Shuang shook the Oath Fruit in her hand and asked, “How do you grow these?”

Congxia didn’t even want to look at her.

Glaring hatefully at the fruit, she scrambled up and ran off.

If Congxia wouldn’t tell her, Liu Shuang had other ways to find out.

After all, she was quite popular in the demon palace now.

That evening, when Yan Chaosheng returned, he saw Liu Shuang sitting cross-legged by the desk, fiddling with a small sapling.

His injuries were nearly healed.

Moving closer, he realized the sapling was actually an Oath Fruit tree.

At first, he thought she had somehow found his tree.

But upon closer inspection, it wasn’t his.

His Oath Fruit tree was lush and vibrant, full of vitality.

The one before him, however, planted in a jade pot, was barely clinging to life—its leaves yellowed, looking utterly miserable.

“Where did this come from?” Yan Chaosheng asked.

He wasn’t surprised Liu Shuang knew about it.

This was the demon palace—someone was bound to recognize an Oath Fruit.

“Mine!”

The little immortal declared proudly, then added, “Don’t talk, don’t disturb me. It’s about to bear fruit.”

So Yan Chaosheng stood over her, silently watching.

Her Oath Tree slowly produced a fruit—a tiny, white one.

Now Yan Chaosheng believed it truly was hers.

The demon clan’s Oath Fruits were purple.

No immortal would cultivate such a “sinister” thing.

But if an immortal did grow one, it would be pure white.

Liu Shuang plucked it and turned to look at him.

Yan Chaosheng stared back in silence.

He had been speculating about what Liu Shuang was doing—maybe she was curious about the Oath Fruit’s growth process, or perhaps she intended to give it to Jimo Shaoyou someday.

But there was one possibility he hadn’t dared consider.

She pried open his clenched fist and placed the fruit in his palm.

“Yan Chaosheng,” she said softly, a little embarrassed, “It turned out white. Can you still eat it?”*

His voice was hoarse.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Then she added, “As long as you’re not afraid of being poisoned.”

He fell silent.

Liu Shuang teased, “If you don’t want it, give it back.”

She reached for it, but the hand trying to take it back was caught in his grip, unable to move.

“Do you know what this is?”

His voice was low, as if suppressing something.

Liu Shuang looked up at him.

Yan Chaosheng frowned, meeting her gaze.

He repeated, “Answer me. Do you know what this is?”

His tone was off.

For a moment, Liu Shuang wavered under his stare.

But she nodded.

“An Oath Fruit.”

His grip on her fingers tightened painfully.

Yet Yan Chaosheng’s voice remained calm.

“Fine. Since you know, I’ll give you one chance to take it back.”

He opened his hand, revealing the strange white fruit.

Liu Shuang glanced at him, then reached out.

Before she could even touch it, his expression darkened, his jaw clenching.

But he didn’t move, letting her take it.

Of course.

Something like this would never truly be given to him.

He closed his eyes.

Anyone who had been toyed with like this would be in a foul mood.

If she never intended to give it to him, why give him hope in the first place?

Yan Chaosheng strode toward the door.

Outside, the enormous Qingluan, sprawled lazily, was startled when its master nearly crashed into it.

It let out a confused chirp, looking at Liu Shuang, who had chased after him.

For a moment, Liu Shuang couldn’t understand why Yan Chaosheng was leaving.

Sometimes, their thoughts just didn’t align.

She grabbed his hand—it was ice-cold.

Even if Yan Chaosheng was in a hurry, he could at least wait for her to finish what she wanted to do.

So she stepped in front of him and, just as he frowned to speak, stuffed the white fruit into his mouth.

The Oath Fruit she had grown was half the size of his, small enough to be swallowed in one bite.

Yan Chaosheng froze, as if petrified, unable to move or make a sound.

Outside, Qingluan craned its neck, utterly baffled by what was happening between its master and Liu Shuang.

After a long moment, Yan Chaosheng moved.

He lowered his head and bit into the Oath Fruit.

It was his first time tasting one—he hadn’t known it would be so sweet, like the first time he’d waited beneath a tree as a child, savoring the taste of honey.

Even though he’d been stung by bees afterward, that sweetness had lingered in his memory for years, and he’d never regretted it.

He chewed slowly.

Oath Fruits usually had pits.

When Liu Shuang had eaten them before, she’d always spat them out.

She didn’t know if the strange fruit she’d grown had one, but Yan Chaosheng didn’t spit anything out.

“Does it… taste bad?” Liu Shuang asked.

He looked up and smiled.

Not the dark, mocking smile he usually wore, nor the faint, restrained amusement from before.

For the first time in so long, Liu Shuang saw him smile like this—a bright, carefree grin, the kind only a young man who had just grown up could have.

Liu Shuang was stunned.

Even in the future, seven hundred years later, she had never seen such pure joy on Yan Chaosheng’s face.

All because of… a fruit.

Suddenly, her waist was seized, and she was lifted into the air.

Caught off guard, she could only wrap her arms around his neck as his laughter rang in her ears.

“You didn’t lie to me,” he said.

“I’m so happy.”

Bracing against his shoulders, Liu Shuang found herself momentarily infected by his mood, her own lips curving into a smile.

Her Huiling Heart was pure, drawn to all genuine emotions.

Just like the flower from the little demon girl—Liu Shuang had been overjoyed when she received it.

Now, Yan Chaosheng’s emotions moved her too.

At least in this moment, she could feel that Yan Chaosheng’s happiness was real.

She reached up and patted his head.

Strangely, he didn’t seem angry at all—just narrowed his eyes slightly before glancing at the nosy Qingluan peeking in.

Qingluan might not understand his joy, but it recognized his murderous intent.

With a flap of its massive wings, it shut the door.

Since meeting Yan Chaosheng, Liu Shuang had never seen him in such high spirits.

That night, he returned to his small couch to sleep.

He stroked her hair.

“Sleep. Once I finish handling these matters, I’ll take you home. I know you’re worried about Kongsang’s situation. I promise you—from now on, I’ll spare any disciple of Kongsang.”

She looked up at him.

Under the lamplight, his handsome features looked even more striking.

He stayed up all night, dealing with the pile of documents on his desk.

After a victorious battle, the demon palace had gained countless new followers.

Even some reclusive great demons had emerged to pledge allegiance.

In the past, Yan Chaosheng had valued powerful demons.

But this time, he made an exception for a group of silkworm women.

These silkworm women were skilled in spinning silk and weaving brocade.

Most demons had ways to ward off the cold, making the silkworm women seem useless.

Yet the Mountain Lord accepted them, tasking them with weaving the finest cloud-patterned silk before winter’s end.

Liu Shuang went to watch them spin.

“What color is the Mountain Lord having you weave?”

“Purple,” they answered.

Purple cloud brocade—the most solemn color for a demon bride’s wedding dress.

As autumn drew to a close, Liu Shuang spotted a familiar face among the demons.

A completely ordinary, forgettable face—except for a pair of upturned fox-like eyes.

At the time, Su Lun was in the crowd, gambling with a few great demons.

They were betting with spirit stones.

The demons kept losing, their faces twisted in pain as Su Lun swept the stones into his arms with a smirk.

When he turned and noticed Liu Shuang’s shocked stare, he sauntered over and bowed.

“Greetings, Immortal. You’ve been staring at me—do you want to play too?”*

Liu Shuang shook her head.

She was stunned—Su Lun had already pledged himself to Yan Chaosheng this early?

“What’s your name?”

“This humble one is Su Lun.”

“Su Lun, are you… a soldier or a strategist?”

Yan Chaosheng had no shortage of soldiers but lacked strategists.

Most strategists were weak, with low spiritual energy, and few remained after years of immortal dominance.

The ancient fox clans of Qingqiu had long since vanished into history.

Su Lun raised a brow.

“What do you think, Immortal?”

Liu Shuang said firmly, “A strategist.”

The plain-looking fox demon burst into laughter.

“Fairy, you flatter me too much. I’m neither a soldier nor a strategist. I’m just passing through, entrusted to deliver a gift to you.”

“For me?”

“Indeed.”

He held out two beautiful blue gemstones.

Liu Shuang recognized them instantly—they were the eyes of the little sand creature that had cared for her on You Mountain!

Back then, it had been so affectionate toward her.

But now, it was dead.

“How did this happen? Did Zhan Xueyang send you?”

“Hmm, no.”

Su Lun said.

“Not Lord Zhan. It was his little underlings. I passed by You Mountain and was stopped by a group of sand creatures. They asked me to give this to you.”

The blue gemstones nearly cut into Liu Shuang’s palm.

She channeled her spiritual energy into them and sensed Yan Chaosheng’s residual aura.

He had killed it.

He had killed them all—then let Zhan Xueyang tell her the dragon’s blood had been freely given.

The gemstones also carried traces of Huiling energy.

It wasn’t hard to deduce—the sand creatures wanted her to know Yan Chaosheng had slaughtered them for her Huiling Heart!

Su Lun bowed.

“I’ll take my leave.”

Liu Shuang clenched the gemstones tightly.

It seemed Yan Chaosheng’s act was even more elaborate than hers.

To obtain her Huiling Heart, he was willing to sacrifice anything.

Was it only because her heart wasn’t fully tempered yet that she had survived from You Mountain until now?

How laughable that she had wavered over a flower from a demon child.

Liu Shuang watched Su Lun leave.

But even if Yan Chaosheng couldn’t be trusted, even if his love was fake—could Su Lun, Zhan Xueyang, or the sand creatures be trusted? What should she do?

As it turned out, Su Lun really had just been passing through to deliver the gems.

After swindling a bunch of foolish demons out of their spirit stones, he packed up his loot—along with Yan Chaosheng’s Ten Commandment Rings—and fled before winter arrived.

He even snatched a candy hawthorn from a little demon child—one the kid had saved for a year, too reluctant to eat.

Su Lun crunched it between his teeth with a grin as the child wailed in despair.

Then he vanished without a trace.

For the first time, Yan Chaosheng had been robbed by one of his own kind.

He looked up, his expression icy.

“Winter is coming. Would you like a fox-fur coat?”*

Liu Shuang paused, then chuckled.

But that wasn’t all.

Outside, a chorus of aggrieved demons lined up to complain—all victims of Su Lun’s misdeeds.

Yan Chaosheng raised his hand, summoning Zangtian.

Qingluan tensed, ready to hunt.

Su Lun might be clever, but his cultivation was lacking.

Against absolute strength, he stood no chance.

Liu Shuang wasn’t worried about Yan Chaosheng killing Su Lun.

The Mountain Lord lacked strategists and coveted talent.

Once he calmed down, he’d realize Su Lun’s value.

Sure enough, a few days later, Yan Chaosheng returned with Su Lun bound tightly in the Ten Commandment Rings.

Despite his disheveled state, Su Lun remained composed, smiling at the demons closing in on him.

“Let’s talk this out, everyone. I can explain.”

The Ox Demon’s iron fist was the first to descend.

“Mountain Lord,” Su Lun said, “Would you really let them beat me to death?”

The Ox Demon’s punch was caught effortlessly.

Yan Chaosheng sneered.

“Go easy. Don’t cripple him—he’s still useful.”

When Yan Chaosheng returned to the palace, he found Liu Shuang feeding Qingluan.

She was instructing it: “No, not like that. You have to control your spiritual energy and shrink yourself. No, no—that’s not right…”

Qingluan, clueless, couldn’t manage it and grew frantic, flapping its wings.

She grabbed its wing.

“If you don’t learn, you’ll scare away Chiyuan when you meet it. And then it won’t like you anymore!”

Qingluan didn’t understand.

Currently the size of half the palace, it thought Liu Shuang was playing and nuzzled her affectionately with its massive head—completely unaware of its own strength.

The sudden movement nearly knocked her over.

Watching this scene, Yan Chaosheng felt warmth quietly spread through him, like ice melting into a tranquil lake.

“When it grows older, it’ll learn to control its energy naturally,” Yan Chousheng said.

“Some demon instincts only awaken in adulthood.”

“I see,” Liu Shuang said, walking over with a smile.

“Did you catch Su Lun?”

“Yes. He’s getting beaten up now. Serves him right.”

The last two words dripped with scorn.

“…”

Yan Chaosheng looked down at her.

“While I was away, I learned something.”

“What?”

“Kunlun’s spiritual veins are unstable again. This time, even the Shennong’s Cauldron couldn’t suppress it. Many have died.”

When Liu Shuang stayed silent, Yan Chaosheng asked, “Do you want to see for yourself?”

She looked up.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He brushed his fingers over the feather mark on her forehead.

“I don’t want you to resent me later. I know he’s important to you.”

“I want to go,” she said.

“Then go.”

Yan Chaosheng paused.

“But this time, I can’t accompany you.”

Liu Shuang nodded without asking why.

As she turned to leave, his hand caught her wrist—tight at first, then loosening slightly.

“You’ll come back, won’t you?”

She turned to meet his gaze and nodded.

“Mm.”

In her heart, she made a decision.

He slowly released her.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Winter crept closer.

The silkworm women finished weaving the cloud brocade ahead of schedule, leaving only the dyeing.

On the day Liu Shuang left the demon palace, a fierce wind blew.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t see her off, but he let Qingluan accompany her.

The moment she left, Su Lun—now dressed in refined robes and carrying a fan—sauntered into the hall, taking in Yan Chaosheng’s blood-red eyes.

“Why torture yourself, Mountain Lord?” Su Lun sighed.

“Enduring your mating season alone while letting your wife seek out another man—that must ache both in heart and body, no?”

“If you can’t speak properly, shut up.”

Su Lun tsked.

“Truly a model for us all. At this rate, you’ll explode from suppression.”

Demon nature was what it was.

Why resist so stubbornly? With no battles to fight, Yan Chaosheng couldn’t slaughter his own subjects to vent.

His true form was stable now—the cold springs no longer worked.

He had no way to endure the mating season.

Su Lun said sympathetically, “I do have a suggestion. Go kill human bandits. They pillage and plunder, deserving death. It’d be a righteous deed.”

Yan Chaosheng’s crimson eyes gleamed coldly.

The next moment, he vanished.

Su Lun chuckled.

“He actually believed me.”

For immortals and demons to slaughter mortals en masse—regardless of justification—was a sin.

Heaven’s will could not be defied.

Even the ancient Demon God Tantai Jin had failed to overturn the Heavenly Dao.

What hope did they have now, millennia later?

Su Lun stepped out of the palace, narrowing his eyes.

Yan Chaosheng might not have believed him—but he was in too much agony, afraid he’d lose control and slaughter the demons.

So he chose to go mad elsewhere.

Resisting his demon bloodline came at a price.

There had been another way, but after growing the Oath Fruit, Yan Chaosheng had sealed his own fate.

His only “cure” had left.

Thinking of the little immortal, Su Lun grew pensive.

She… didn’t seem to have gone far.

Had she guessed something?